


end of the line

by pistolgrip



Series: oath of blood [2]
Category: THE iDOLM@STER, THE iDOLM@STER: SideM
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Future, M/M, back at it again with the fucking yakuza, complete self-indulgence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-08
Updated: 2018-05-08
Packaged: 2019-04-27 21:24:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14434386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pistolgrip/pseuds/pistolgrip
Summary: Daigo's time is up.





	end of the line

**Author's Note:**

> highly recommended you read the previous installment of the series!  
> this daigo's background doesn't align with canon :o also, ueno is here

Three weeks shy of Daigo’s eighteenth birthday, on the tail end of a dance practice, the producer and Ueno walk in. There’s something in their faces that makes Daigo halt in his tracks, something that Ryo can’t read, and distracted, he bumps right into Kazuki’s back.

Ueno’s normally an expressive guy, the producer’s face is normally kind, but right now they’re both unreadable, almost grim. Ryo’s breath catches, waiting for anyone to say something, and suddenly Daigo breaks formation and marches to where he is in the doorway without looking back.

At the doorway, Daigo pauses. And when he turns around, there’s something almost vicious in his eyes, but it’s not aimed at them. It’s disconnected, like he’s looking through them instead of at them. “Don’t let anyone into the office until I come back.”

The door shuts behind the three of them, and they’re gone. The song they’ll be debuting soon is still playing in the background, and it seems much too upbeat, considering that it feels like he’s had the floor pulled out from underneath him.

Whatever it is, it seems a little out of the scope of F-LAGS, but moreso as a friend than as the leader, Ryo makes the motion to follow. He’s stopped by Kazuki, who’s put a hand on his shoulder with a slight frown on his face. They share a look, just as wordless as the one between Ueno, the producer, and Daigo, and then Kazuki goes to turn off the boombox.

With nothing else to do, Ryo walks out to the main office area—maybe to rest, maybe to see if he can catch a glimpse of whatever it is that’s gotten Daigo and company so shaken—and Kazuki is right behind him.

Ken’s nursing a hot cup of tea, and Kazuki makes a beeline for the kettle. Normally chipper, the secretary is chewing on his pen, looking at the company president’s door, with a nod at the two of them before his eyes can’t resist looking at the door again. The air in the office is tense, and Ryo feels like if he were to move, something would shatter.

“Does anyone know what’s going on?” he asks anyway, testing the waters. Ken shakes his head, and Kazuki has a pensive look on his face. “Kazuki-kun, do you know something?”

It looks like there’s an internal struggle going on in Kazuki’s mind, and at that moment Ryo _knows_ there’s something going on here, something that he’s been left out of. But he trusts them, F-LAGS, the agency. If he doesn’t know, then it’s probably for the best.

Right?

The kettle whistles. Ryo follows him across the room, and underneath the whistling of the kettle, Kazuki says, “I do. However, it’s something that I shouldn’t know, either. I was just in the right place at the right time.” He picks up the kettle and pours them both tea. “It’s family business.”

When Daigo comes back, less than an hour later, he’s his same old self. Grins at the two of them on the couch with hot cups of tea in their hands, like Ryo isn’t worrying to death about Kazuki’s cryptic words, like Kazuki himself doesn’t seem a little high strung under the veneer of stoicism he's known for. And Ueno—over the years, Ueno’s loosened up, gone from unreadable hired muscle to someone that Ryo can trust with not only Daigo’s life, but with his and Kazuki’s and anyone from 315 that happens to be around. It’s like he’s become a part of the 315 family. Part of that is because Ueno’s let his own emotions show, a voluntary relinquishing of shield.

Daigo holds up a bag from a nearby convenience store; there’s a tub of ice cream in it, like a peace offering for the internal battle within Ryo that Daigo didn’t even know he started. “Sorry ‘bout that! Family duty calls,” he says, sheepishly. Normally, Ueno would chime in with something else, reprimanding him for being airheaded, something, anything. But he’s quiet. Ryo can’t tell what he’s thinking, either. He hasn’t worn his sunglasses in the 315 offices in a very long time.

Catching the look on his face, Daigo perks up. “Ya worried ‘bout Ueno? He’s just a little wired from the meetin’. Guess we been doin’ this so long we forgot where we came from, yeah?” He’s nudging Ueno in the side, and—like he doesn’t want to, but does so anyway because they’re _orders_ —he takes off his sunglasses.

Then, his face relaxes. Not entirely, but some of the lines on his face soften up. He still doesn’t say anything. Ryo wonders if there’s anything to say.

The producer comes out from the hallway again. Tells them to take it easy for a day if they want, tells them that business has to continue with Daigo, unfortunately, and it might take up more time than they can sit around and wait for—and that’s that. They’re gone shortly after.

Neither of them are particularly hungry, so Ryo puts the ice cream in the freezer. Kazuki doesn’t seem like he’ll talk any more about what’s happened—although to his credit (and to some of his guilt), Ryo does notice that he’s a little torn up about it—and takes an early day.

Ryo’s got way too much energy to burn, all questions and no answers. He heads back to the practice room to sort things out.

* * *

It’s been hours, hours he’s spent dancing the same routines over and over, with the sun dipping down past the rooftops as his backdrop, the buildings lighting up like stars in a dark sky. He only stops when his stomach rumbles and with a glance at the clock, he figures he’ll call it a day. His mind feels like it’s on autopilot when he turns the light off in the practice room and walks downstairs to the main front office.

Ken is still there, sitting at his desk. When Ryo walks through, his head perks up. “Heading home, Akizuki-kun?”

“Yeah. Thank you!”

“Anytime—just thought Kabuto-kun would be with you, is he still practicing?” Ken asks.

Something jolts through him. “I thought he left already,” Ryo says.

Ken shakes his head. “I saw the producer walking around today, so I know he’s not still in a meeting with them. That’s odd.”

“I’ll go check up on him, he can’t have gone far.” Something uncomfortable spears through his body, and he leaves his duffel bag on the couch and starts walking through the office; anyone he passes by he asks if they’ve seen Daigo, and he checks all the odd rooms throughout the office.

To anyone else, Daigo looks back to his normal self. But for Ryo and Kazuki, for the producer and Ken, they can tell that something else is lurking under the surface, an uncertainty none of them have seen on him in a very long time.

Daigo doesn’t talk about it. Neither do the producer or Ken. Ryo knows better than to pry about family matters, but even before what happened today, for a few months, Daigo’s mood has slowly been blinking in and out of the cheeriness he’s defined for himself.

The roof is open for everyone to use, and they’ve been there a few times to practice choreo, but never this late at night; it’s the last place Ryo has to check, and he takes two steps, almost running, even though he’d been nearly exhausted by dance practice today.

He just short of kicks the door open and nearly collapses of relief when Daigo is there, leaning on the railing and staring out at the night sky. He wasn’t quiet by any means, but Daigo makes no move to look back at him. Nothing makes sense.

“Daigo-kun!” He jogs over to where Daigo’s standing—he doesn’t need to, but he gets the sense that he’s running out of time, that there’s things that have to be said. It’s almost ridiculous. Other than the weird incident earlier that day, nothing’s _wrong,_ really _._ The day’s proceeded as normal. Even over the years, it hadn’t been unusual to find Daigo in quiet moments, spacing out like this.

He still doesn’t look at Ryo, but a little smile grows over his face. The Daigo he knows would turn around to him right away, with a loud voice and an unashamed grin. The Daigo he knows wouldn’t wear a smile as restrained as this.

“Ryo,” he says. Ryo’s always liked the way his name’s sounded in Daigo’s voice, just as vibrant as the rest of him. But the way he says it now is disconcerting in what he can absolutely, unmistakably, only call resignation. “We’ll be friends no matter what, yeah?”

He doesn’t know where this is going. He doesn’t _like_ where this is going. “Of course.”

“Good. ‘Cause that’s how I feel about you.”

Daigo’s never been one to talk in circles, to hide the way he feels, but Ryo’s watching something unraveling in front of him, exposing some part of Daigo he’s never seen. He grabs frantically at the threads. “Daigo-kun—”

“Don’t worry, Ryo!” Daigo waves a hand, and it _sounds_ like he’s back. But it’s incredibly unconvincing, and just fills Ryo with even more dread. “Just thinkin’ ‘bout stuff. I’ll be back at the office, just gimme a few minutes, yeah?”

This, sadly enough, is a little more normal. Throughout the years, there’s only one thing that Daigo’s ever been tight-lipped about, and it’s his family. It’s obvious enough that the call Ueno got the other day was family-related, but it must run deeper than he can even imagine. It’s Daigo’s standard response. _Don’t worry. I’m okay._

In that sense, he doesn’t know whether he should stop, because Daigo’s never exposed anything about his past willingly. He doesn’t know whether he should pry, because his behaviour is so startlingly different that Ryo feels like he might lose the chance forever if he doesn’t try.

He settles for an in-between. “Alright... but Daigo-kun, I mean it. I’m always here for you, no matter what happens. And Kazuki-kun, Producer-san, everyone at 315—we would do the same. You’re a precious member of our family, and family means we listen to each other and care.”

“Is that what that means, then.” The wind nearly carries the words away.

“Is—what?”

Daigo’s eyebrows raise, like he hasn’t realized what he’s said. “Nah, don’t worry about it.” Back to default answers, and now there’s no way Ryo’s giving up. “Thanks, Ryo. But really, I’ll be fine. Just need some time to think alone for a bit. I’ll be back, ‘kay? I left my stuff in the office anyway.”

Ryo is deeply unconvinced. Over time, he’s learnt the different ways that Daigo shows that he’s fine, and it’s when he _says_ the words _I_ _’m fine_ is when he’s least alright. As a last ditch effort, he puts a hand on Daigo’s shoulder, about to say one last thing. But Daigo suddenly looks at him with so much fire in his eyes the words die in his mouth.

“Can I be selfish?”

“Daigo-kun, you’re one of the most selfless people I know.”

“Close your eyes.”

He does, immediately. His breath catches, because he doesn’t know if this is going where it’s going, and if it is, then he doesn’t know if he’s ready, his heart beating in his ears before anything even happens.

And then he feels a pair of lips, gently against his own, and he freezes—but some part of him accepted this, and so when Daigo brings a hand up to cup the side of his face he relaxes into it. It feels right. It feels like the two of them have been waiting this for way longer than they needed to.

It feels like an ending.

The second he reciprocates, Daigo pulls back. His eyes open and there’s such a deep look of sadness on Daigo’s face that he wonders, irrationally, if the experience was somehow just that bad. But something under the sadness is a resolution, so distant from anything Ryo’s ever seen before, that makes him realize two things, two things he can call truths beyond any doubt:

The first is that Daigo’s decided to do something, and it’s something irreversible. It’s something that’ll veer off from his current life path, something that might cause him to never see anyone at the agency ever again. It might be something dangerous, it might be something Ryo can’t even begin to think of, and no matter what it is, nothing will ever be the same.

The second is that Daigo loves him, truly and wholly, with all his heart, the way that only Daigo can. It knocks his world sideways, and when Daigo looks back out over the city lights and leans onto the railing like nothing happened, Ryo grabs him by the shoulders to face him.

He doesn’t even know what to say— _what are you doing? Where are you going? Why did you do that? Why did you wait this long?_ But then he realizes something else: that Daigo can read every single expression that passes on his face. Daigo _knows_ he knows, even before Ryo himself did.

So the conversation Ryo wants to start has ended in the same instant, with nothing but wind blowing in the space between them. He lets his hands drop to the side and Daigo breaks eye contact, turns his head completely away, back to the night scenery. “Please, just go back downstairs, Ryo.”

The threads are blowing away, the bone-white of the spool making itself present. But still, he tries. That’s all he’s got left. “Can I stay here instead?”

Daigo closes his eyes, smiling. Like that’s the answer he wanted. “Y’know, I never could say no to ya.”

Ryo feels his face flush, cuffs him on the shoulder before leaning next to him on the railing and looking out. When Daigo shifts his weight from one foot to the other, making their shoulders bump, he doesn’t say anything.

They stay like that for a while, but it’s getting late. The wind is cold, even though spring is just around the corner. The lights of the skyline blink up at him, and he tries desperately to scry meaning from them, like they’ll tell him what’s going on in Daigo’s mind.

He waits for Daigo to say anything, to continue. To bare his heart and let Ryo, if no one else, help. But he never says a thing, and Ryo—exhausted from dance practice, adrenaline rush from looking for Daigo dying down—finally yawns.

Of course, it doesn’t escape Daigo’s attention. Still without looking at him, he bumps their shoulders again. “Don’t wait up for me, you should probably get goin’.”

He doesn’t miss the way Daigo only refers to him. As much as he wants to stay, Daigo’s already made his decision about what it is he’s setting out to do. He turns away to walk back, give Daigo some breathing room, and as a last ditch effort, he asks: “This is the last time I’ll see you, isn’t it?”

Daigo’s lack of answer is enough.

* * *

Three weeks shy of his eighteenth birthday, Daigo stands in front of F-LAGS and announces his retirement.

“I’m really sorry ‘bout this, really, but a buncha family things came up all of a sudden, ‘n’ there’s inheritance issues I gotta figure out. I’ve been talkin’ with producer and the President for a few weeks now, and we all agreed that it’d probably for the best, given my circumstances, to retire.”

Daigo’s speech flickers back and forth between a formality Ryo’s never heard from him before, to the same casualness he’s always known. As if the announcement wasn’t disorienting enough, the way that he’s presenting himself now to his small audience of four serves to upend everything Ryo thought he ever knew about Daigo. _He’s a politician’s son, after all,_ he reminds himself.

But for the first time, in that statement, there’s doubt. Ryo’s never had reason to doubt Daigo until now. He looks at Kazuki, trying to gleam any sort of information about how he’s supposed to be taking this information. The expressions on his face are minute, but over the years Ryo’s learnt what to look out for.

But Kazuki’s face, for the first time he can think of since they all got to know each other, is blank. Truly neutral.

No—it’s almost as if he’d expected this outcome.

Later that day, he makes the same announcement to the rest of 315. Ryo barely remembers the words he says, too busy scanning the rest of the idol’s faces to see if anyone else feels as wrong about this situation as he does. Immediately after, he and Ueno head out, stating the preparations he needs to make so he can move back to Hiroshima as soon as possible, and his official last day will be tomorrow, where he’ll make a public announcement with the rest of F-LAGS.

Daigo rushes out, without looking behind him.

Ryo would say _like he always does,_ but usually, F-LAGS is right behind him, or at his side. Now they’re left looking at his retreating back, sending him off into some unknown world they could never understand.

* * *

The public announcement they have to film is, Ryo decides, one of the hardest things he’s ever had to do in his idol career. The three of them had been together through thick and thin, but now Ryo dares to doubt even _that._ Between the mysterious, unexplained disappearance, and the years and years of Daigo avoiding any mention of his family, he wonders if Daigo hasn’t trusted the two of them the way they’ve trusted him.

Daigo shows up, with a smile, as always. But now it’s the same sad one he saw two nights ago, open for everyone to see. Some of the other idols are already patting him on the back, giving him last minute hugs, and he wipes at his eyes. “C’mon, guys, I can’t do this before we even record the message,” he says, eyes reddening.

Their flag, red, white, and blue, is the backdrop against a simple table. The producer and the president are standing against the wall, Ken behind the camera. The mood in the room is so oppressive, and Ryo feels like he’s on the knife’s edge, even as they sit in formation, as the shuffle the papers in front of them.

It’s quieter than it has any right to be. Daigo is their moodmaker, for better or for worse, and so far he hasn’t made an attempt to crack a joke or lighten the mood. Moreso than their situation at hand, _that’s_ what’s making Ryo more jittery than usual.

Ken counts down from three, and Daigo’s hands reach out on either side of him for the other two. Kazuki wordlessly takes his hand, and Ryo takes the other.

The red light blinks at them, and Daigo raises his head, and begins to apologize for the sudden news.

* * *

The next day, during break, Ryo calls Daigo’s cellphone, see whether he’s moved out of his apartment okay or needs any more help.

He calls again and again, pacing impatiently around the agency.

* * *

The number is out of service.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> i had a whole plot planned out but at some point i had derailed massively and rather than being a sidem fic it was more along the lines of an original story with f-lags and occasional 315 appearances so, take this, i guess
> 
> me: please just write rgg fic. please for the love of god if you love yakuza just finish all your rgg wips. please  
> brain: that's too hard. here's an idol that tried to escape the yakuza life but had it bite him back in the ass i wrote. Do you like this  
> 


End file.
